After hitting it big with Momma's Baby, Daddy's Maybe, national bestselling author Jamise L. Dames is back with another hip, sensual, and compelling novel.
A Tragic Past...
Daisy Parker's boyfriend has strayed one too many times and she's no longer sitting pretty. Having sacrificed seven years of her life to being his faithful woman and raising his nine-year-old son, the only thing that will calm her now is to hurl his beloved wardrobe out their second-story window. Single life may scare Daisy, but her mind is made up -- when the good-for-nothing returns, she'll serve him his walking papers. Only he isn't up to his old tricks that night, and what goes down strips Daisy of the option to choose. She's on her own.
...A Hopeful Future
Left penniless, homeless, and jobless, Daisy struggles to make a home for herself and her son. Just when she seems poised to take control and put the baggage of her past behind her, complications arise when the towering frame of Daisy's deliciously handsome college crush strolls into town. His unexpected attention makes her feel alive, yet she's been burned by love once and isn't sure she can take the heat. As undeniable passions rise, so do the stakes, and Daisy can't stand to lose another round....
A compelling tale of life, love, and hope.
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May 23, 2005
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Excerpt from Pushing Up Daisies by Jamise L. Dames
Chapter 1: Summer
Daisy Parker's blood was boiling. She balled up her boyfriend's favorite brown suede Armani jacket and threw it out the second-story window. She stuck her head out into the warm breeze, surveyed her work, and smiled wickedly. Jasper Stevens's clothes and shoes decorated her front lawn. Silk shirts in every color imaginable sprinkled the red roses that climbed the white trellis. Boxer shorts were scattered like freckles on the flagstone walkway, while an isolated pair hung from the limb of an oak tree like a gigantic moth. A beige loafer lay in the neighbor's yard across the street.
Neighbors stood outside and watched in shameless amazement.
"Mind your own business!" Daisy yanked the navy sheers closed. Why in the hell is everybody outside so early anyway?
She stood thinking, hands on hips. Now for his grandmother's antique china. As she ran down the stairs, a stabbing pain shot through her right foot. She winced as blood trickled from her big toe. She shook her head in disgust and pulled out the small masonry nail.
"Ooh...goddamn!" She cringed, grabbing her foot. "I hate these stairs. I hate this house." Then Daisy's heart raced. "Lord, don't let him walk through that door right now, 'cause I swear I'm gonna kill him. I told him the last time that if he let the sun beat him home, it would be the last one he'd see rise." The pain from her wound, which was beginning to swell, deepened her anger. She wiped a tear from her eye and went to treat her injury.
As she limped into the first-floor bathroom, Daisy frowned at the tiny spots of blood staining the tile. If it's not one thing, it's something worse. I wonder who it is this time -- what woman has twisted his head so far up his ass that he can't see who's had his back for years. She yanked open the medicine cabinet, and the entire contents tumbled into the sink. "Jesus!" Her heart felt as if it were jackhammering its way out of her chest.
She was not going to have another anxiety attack. No. No. No. Jasper wasn't worth it. She inhaled slowly, held her breath to the count of ten, then exhaled. The last thing she needed was to lose control. After repeating the process several times she began to relax. Seven years of yoga had taught her how to alleviate stress. As her pulse slowed, she rummaged through the fallen toiletries for the first-aid kit. After treating her wound, she found herself staring into the basin. Something wasn't right. The medicine cabinet was usually full, but the sink only contained a few items. All of Jasper's toiletries are missing. His extra toothbrush -- gone. There was no denying the evidence. Every time Jasper had stepped out on her before, she'd found the cabinet almost bare. "Now I'm really going to throw the china out the window!"
Daisy carelessly stacked the fragile china on the table in separate piles. With each half-toss it clattered, threatening to topple to the floor. Silently she urged it to fall, dared it to break like her relationship. Why not? Everything else Jasper claimed to love is broken. She snatched a plate and examined it. The blue-patterned china that bore fanciful etching, navy like a perfect night sky lighted by stars, was trimmed in gold. The hazy color she once thought beautiful was now as hideous as it was gaudy and old. Ugly and disgusting. Haunting, like the bluish lips of the dead. She shivered. Flinging the dish on top of the stack, a vile film covered her fingertips. Smelling her hands, she realized the china smelled as bad as it looked. Its stench attacked her nostrils and made her mouth feel like cotton. Turning away, she bumped the table with her hip and watched the china shake, rattle, and fall.